Just One Chance
by GeekChic12
Summary: *Based on a true story* Once upon a time, he came to her rescue when she had no one else. Could a chance meeting many months later lead to something more? Donation piece for Fandom For Mental Health Awareness.
1. Naked

**Hi, lovely readers! This is my Fandom For Mental Health Awareness piece. I'm not a big fan of long one-shots in general, and there are some natural breaks in the story, so I'm breaking it up into chapters. I'll post them all pretty quickly, though, if you want to wait until the very end to review. And if you do review, I truly appreciate it!**

 **Huge thanks to Twilly, Sheviking, Sophiacorgi, and Twificlovah (aka Mich Ellis) for all of their help with this.**

 **SM owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.**

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 **Chapter 1 - Naked**

The gym is crowded today, but I don't let that deter me.

After adjusting the weight, I situate myself onto the chest press machine. I've already done my stretches and pulled my ponytail tight, ready to give my upper body a good workout.

Building my strength up is more important now than ever.

As I begin pressing, pulling the machine's weights up with focused exhales, I notice a man jogging on a treadmill across the way. White earbud cords trail out of his ears, and he's looking right at me. He shifts his gaze away when he realizes he's been caught, but it's not quite fast enough.

Tilting my head to the side, I keep my eyes on him for a moment as he focuses on a TV mounted on the wall to his left, working too hard to appear nonchalant. The line of his neck is beautiful, and the way he was looking at me made me feel a not-entirely-unpleasant pull in the pit of my stomach. It's something I haven't felt in a long time, and it flusters me. It feels wrong.

His eyebrows lift when his eyes find mine because I'm still looking. Staring, really.

He appears sheepish for a moment, but then his expression shifts, and the tugging sensation in my stomach is back.

I'm used to people looking at me, but not like _that_. The way he's looking is focused yet soft-smiling, with maybe a spark of attraction. My heart speeds its beat, but I shake my head.

No one's looked at me like that in years.

When he stops his treadmill and wipes it down, I go back to my chest presses, convincing myself I imagined the whole thing. It's not that I'm unattractive necessarily, but just… no.

All the little hairs on my arms stand up when he begins walking toward me. I can tell in my periphery that he's looking at me again.

And then… he stops right beside me.

My eyes are wide as I swing them up to his _extremely handsome_ face, all angular lines and just the right amount of stubble.

"Hi," he says with a beautiful smile full of pearly white teeth.

"Um. Hi?"

He chuckles and runs a hand through his damp hair, showing off an impressive bicep under the sleeve of his blue t-shirt. "I'm sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say hello and see how you're doing."

"How I'm… doing? Is that a joke?"

His gaze darts to the empty wheelchair beside me. " _No_. I didn't mean…" He swallows and glances to his left before leveling me with eyes that glitter like emeralds. _Jeez, he didn't have enough going for him already?_ "I'm Edward," he says, thrusting a big hand toward me.

It's warm and a little damp when I shake it, and I'm completely bewildered by this awkward conversation.

If it can be called that.

"Bella," I tell him. He doesn't release my hand right away, and I realize I'm still holding on tight, so I loosen my grip enough to communicate that it's time to let go.

"Right. Bella." His disarming smile makes another appearance.

"Do you have veneers?" is my intelligent reply, having been dazzled and apparently rendered stupid by his row of shiny teeth.

A sweet laugh tumbles out of him. "No. Just good genes, I guess."

"No shit," I mutter.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Look, I'm sorry. I don't mean to bother you. It's just… Would you, uh…" Edward palms the back of his neck and looks at his shoes with another soft laugh.

"Something funny?"

Wide, alarmed eyes find mine again. "What? No. No, I'm just a little nervous," he says with a small frown that looks all wrong on his face.

"Why?"

What could this Grecian sculpture ever have to be nervous about?

A corner of his mouth tilts up, and those damn eyes actually sparkle at me. _What the fuck?_

"I always get kind of nervous when I ask a beautiful woman out."

Several things happen in quick succession. A hot flush rushes over me, my mouth hangs open like a freaking sex doll, I blink and blink and blink at him, and then I turn my head away completely because I know I look like a moron, but… _What the actual fuck did he just say?_

My mind processes the shock and then moves on to suspicion as I notice several pairs of eyes watching our exchange, and I turn back to find him still standing there, hands stuffed into the pockets of his track pants.

"So, would you lik—"

"Did someone put you up to this?" I ask, cutting him off. "Go ask the crippled chick out? Because it's not fucking funny. I don't deserve to be 'played' or whatever the hell it is you're doing."

I'm shaking, and I want to cry, but I won't. Not in front of him, because I'm sure it's exactly what he wants to see.

Edward shocks me by falling to his knees beside my machine. "No, Bella. What? I'm…" He rakes a hand through his hair again. "Do you really not recognize me? At all?"

"Recognize you?"

"I'll take that as a no," he replies softly.

"Why would I recognize you? Are you a friend of Peter's?"

"No," he says with a shake of his head. "I was there, um… at your house? I was one of the first responders when you, uh..."

My face goes nuclear, and I drop it into my hands. "Oh, God," I squeak. "You've seen me naked?"

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 **Thank you so much for reading! xo**


	2. Unbelievable

**This chapter and part of the next consist of a flashback, but I didn't want to put the whole thing in italics.**

 **Chapter 2 - Unbelievable**

 _ **Approximately a year and a half ago...**_

With a weary sigh, I closed and locked the front door after crossing the threshold, noting the silence offered by the home I shared with my husband. I was always beating him home these days, and I missed the way he used to rush outside as soon as he'd hear me pull into the driveway, offering me a smile and his unfailing arms.

I couldn't pinpoint when the shift had happened, but it wasn't only the big things that were different. It was in the little things, too. He used to make sure I had access to everything, always striving to make things easier for me. My toothbrush would be ready and waiting for me, covered in a line of sticky blue every morning when I made it to the bathroom and every night before bed. It wasn't something I couldn't do for myself. It was just one of the ways he told me he loved me, a small gesture that made me smile each time.

The first time I had to do it myself, I thought nothing of it. Maybe he'd simply forgotten. No big deal. But now, it was rare for me to receive that gesture. He'd also stopped laying my pajamas out on the bed for me, and he almost never took my car to fill it up with gas anymore. He would still help me into my vehicle in the morning, but it was rare for his lips to brush over mine before I left for work.

It'd started to feel like he was giving up on us.

On me.

I eyed my electric wheelchair, which was waiting faithfully in the entryway, unlike my husband, but I rolled past it. I usually ditched the lightweight chair I used for work as soon as I got home, but the fancy electric one was just another reminder of something Peter gave me to make things easier for me, and I found myself not wanting his help at the moment, even indirectly.

I knew it was immature, and my arms would be sore later, but I was feeling rebellious.

Too bad rebellion wouldn't carry far enough to let me ditch the chairs altogether and walk.

There'd been a helium balloon of hope that I'd walk again in the beginning, just after the accident, always bobbing around and keeping my spirits up. But then it'd started drifting further and further away... until it couldn't be seen at all.

Resigned to my fate, I'd done my best to plaster a smile onto my face for my family and friends, but I'm sure it wasn't very convincing. There were too many dreams I'd had for my life that I'd felt slipping through my fingers.

Peter was amazing in the beginning, always reassuring me that nothing would change. He'd always love me. No matter what.

Unfortunately, I wasn't so sure about that anymore.

My house, despite its cavernous silence, felt stifling. It was nice out, so I decided to take a walk… or roll, as it were, around the block. By the time I got back, I was huffing and puffing and sweating like a whore in church. My upper body strength wasn't what it should've been for someone in my position. I barely had to move around at work, and I used my electric chair most of the time at home. And Peter had always helped me with everything else, for which I'd always been grateful.

He still wasn't back when I got home, and I needed a shower. I still didn't want his help, though, so I decided not to wait around for him. I pulled one leg up at a time to get my shoes off. Why the fuck I even had to wear shoes was beyond me. It should've been an expense I could avoid now. But God forbid the general public should have to see my small socked feet.

Shifting around and working up even more of a sweat, I finally got all my clothes off and set my wire-framed glasses down on the bathroom counter. I turned toward the tub, where I had my shower chair ready, and that was the exact moment our dogs started scratching and jumping at the back door.

 _Shit._

I'd forgotten Thelma and Louise were outside. Stupid. I should've remembered, since they hadn't bounded up to me as soon as I'd come in the front door.

We left them out on nice days like today. Peter gave them plenty of water, and the girls liked to think they'd catch those birds they chased around the yard.

Completely naked, I rolled to the back door and pulled it open, shielding myself from any neighbors who might've happened to be looking at my house at that exact moment. Things were blurry without my glasses, but I could still see enough to get around. My chocolate lab and golden retriever rushed in and skidded across the tile before u-turning and coming right at me, licking my hands and up my arms.

"All right, girls. I see you." I patted their heads, and their sweet grins made their tongues loll out of their mouths.

As soon as they ran to the utility room where we kept their food, I let out a groan. Pulling my phone from the small pouch attached to my armrest, I held it about two inches from my face and sent Peter a text, asking when he'd be home.

 **Gonna be late again. Sorry, babe.**

Growling in frustration, I rolled to the utility room door and opened it, eyeing the large plastic trash can that contained the girls' dog food. Peter liked to buy it in bulk and keep it in this giant thing, and if the can wasn't almost full, I had a hard time scooping out the food because I was pretty much chin-level with the top of it.

He was usually here to feed them.

Not thinking, I kept my phone in my hand as I tried lifting up a bit and leaning over the side of the can to grab the scoop, and of course my phone fell into its depths.

"Motherfucker!"

I was so irate by this point that I just flung myself over the side to snatch it back up, and before I knew what was happening, my chair had rolled out from under me, and I found myself _inside_ the fucking trash can, lying on what felt like gravel against my skin.

My spinal cord injury was incomplete, so I'd maintained some feeling—which I was cursing right about now—but no movement in my legs or feet, unfortunately.

After getting myself mostly upright, I tried to move enough to tip the container over, but the weight of me and the remaining dog food worked against me. It hopped pitifully a couple of inches, and the dogs whined as a ball of panic built in my chest.

The one person who could help me, who _should_ have been helping me at a time like this suddenly wasn't answering his phone.

My legs were useless, bent up against the side of the can. I was able get my arms over the side on the first couple of attempts, my breasts pressing painfully against the hard plastic, but my arms alone just weren't strong enough to get me up and out. They were weak and sore from my roll around the block, but with zero leverage from my legs, I didn't think I'd be successful anyway.

Fuck Peter and his stupid electric chair. Fuck me for ever using it.

 _I could really use some fucking biceps right about now_.

As the dogs whined and sniffed around outside the trash can, I started mentally going through a list of possibilities of who I could call. I left Peter a frantic voicemail when I couldn't think of anyone I knew that I was okay with seeing me naked. My parents lived three states away, and my close friends had pretty much faded to acquaintances in the wake of my accident. I'd stopped making the effort, certain they wouldn't want to hang out with me anymore, so they'd eventually stopped calling.

Mentally and physically exhausted, I flung some food over the side for the girls and then let my tears roll down my face.

After an hour of no word from Peter, I couldn't take the pain of the little pellets of food digging into my skin anymore. I couldn't take the feeling of being trapped. Vivid flashbacks of being trapped in a car with the hood on fire made me squeeze my eyes shut. I was shaking and sweating, and I felt like I'd die in there.

 _I feel utterly alone—in this trash can, in this house, in this life._

With shaking fingers, I dialed the three numbers I was hoping to avoid. The last thing I wanted was for strangers to find me like this, but I had no other choice.

I couldn't be seen naked by people I knew at work or any "friends" on Facebook. Rescue workers saw people naked all the time. They wouldn't snicker about it later… about the paraplegic chick who fell into her container of dog food.

 _God, how embarrassing._

At least I'd never have to see them again after this.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"Um… hi, my name is Bella Sharp. I'm uh… kind of stuck inside a trash can."

"Are you hurt?"

"No, not really."

I provided my phone number and address, hating having to explain this situation to a complete stranger.

I needed to suck it up, though, because my humiliation would only double when someone actually arrived.

After I hung up with the dispatcher, I tried Peter again but only got his voicemail... _again_.

Two more fat tears spilled out of my eyes as I whispered, "Unbelievable."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! xo**


	3. Impossible

**Chapter 3 - Impossible**

Another ten minutes went by before someone arrived at my back door. Thankfully, I'd left it unlocked when I let the dogs inside.

"Ms. Sharp?"

Moving my arms to cover as much of my nakedness as I could, I shouted, "In here!" Fifteen seconds later, I blinked up at the blurry face and broad shoulders that appeared in the opening at the top of the trash can and offered a weak smile. "Hi."

"Hello, Ms. Sharp. Are you hurt?"

"Not really," I repeated. "Just sore from the dog food poking me and from trying to get out."

The dark-haired man… _man_ (of course it would be a man) nodded, eyes never wandering, as far as I could tell—totally professional. "Okay. What we're going to do is place a blanket over you and then lift you out. Okay?"

"Sounds like a plan."

His façade broke for just a second, one side of his mouth tilting up and a small shadow appearing on his cheek—a dimple. "I'll be right back." He tapped the top of the trash can, and I heard his footsteps retreat, along with the sounds of my dogs' claws clicking on the tile as they followed him.

I took deep breaths to try to calm my racing heart. And I waited.

It wasn't long before the EMT came back with his partner. A smooth voice replaced the jovial one from before and asked me to lift my arms. The heat of embarrassment flooded through my body, starting at my face, and I clenched my eyes shut. He cleared his throat as I complied, the cool air tightening my nipples.

A presence came very close to my face, making my heart beat faster, and warm breath hit my neck as a blanket was wrapped around me. A shiver ran down my spine, and the clean scent of whomever was in front of me calmed me briefly.

"You can lower your arms now," the silky voice said, and I accidentally let out a sigh as I did as he said.

 _He should be a hypnotist. Or a phone sex operator._

He'd make a killing.

Further embarrassed by actually getting turned on by this guy's voice, I kept my head down and my eyes closed.

"Are you ready?" jovial guy asked.

"As I'll ever be."

"Okay, on three."

Strong hands gripped under my arms.

"One… Two… Three."

With a grunt from one of the men, I was lifted out. The blanket fell open in the back, and a large hand brushed the imbedded kibbles off my backside.

"If you wanted to cop a feel, you could've just asked," I joked.

Jovial guy guffawed, and the other guy seemed to start choking all of a sudden. My cheeks heated up again as both men quieted down, and four hands steadied me as I was set in my chair.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" Velvet asked quietly.

He was crouched in front of my chair, arm outstretched, with his hand resting on my armrest. He was blurry as I glanced at him and then dropped my gaze to my lap. All I could make out was his wild reddish hair and an angular face.

I shrugged one shoulder. "Just my pride."

His hand lifted toward my face, causing a distinct flutter in my chest, but then he stopped whatever he was about to do, and I fidgeted with my hands in my lap, still not looking at him.

"Ms. Sharp?" the darker-haired man asked. "Is there anything else we can help you with? You can keep the blanket, no worries."

There was a smile in his voice, and it made me smile in return.

"No. Thank you for your help."

"Is there anyone we can call for you?" he continued. "I actually… know your husband, Peter. Not very well. We have some mutual friends, but he's mentioned you before, and I knew this was his place."

"No," I answered, not quite able to keep the bitterness out of my tone. "I tried calling him. Several times."

"Ah." He cleared his throat. "Of course."

.

.

 _ **Present Day: Gym**_

"I thought you'd remember me, but I'm sure that was a pretty traumatic experience all around," Edward says, bringing me out of the memory.

"Yeah, but that's not why." I shake my head. "I didn't have my glasses on." His gaze is questioning because my face is bare now as well. "I got LASIK."

"Ah, makes sense." Edward looks off to his right and then back at me, some strong emotion stirring the green in his eyes. "I hated leaving you alone like that, wrapped in that scratchy blanket and looking so sad and defeated," he says. "Kinda broke my damn heart."

"I'm okay," I assure him, touched by his compassionate words.

He nods. "Good. I uh… heard about the divorce. From Emmett."

"Emmett?"

"My partner. The other guy who was with me," he clarifies.

"Oh." I guess that explains why he thought it was okay to ask me out. But still… _Why?_

I know I'm not unattractive, but this guy could seriously have any woman he wants. He could probably cock his head at any chick in here, and she'd follow him anywhere he led her. On her working legs.

I've pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I'll be single for the rest of my life. I'm mostly okay with that now. I'll miss sex, of course, but I've already been missing it for quite a while anyway. Peter treated me like I might break most of the time after the accident, and I barely noticed when he stopped touching me altogether. Besides, I have toys and good smut to read to keep my needs mostly satisfied.

In the time since Peter left me for his coworker, Charlotte, the woman he'd _of course_ been having an affair with, I've been diagnosed with depression, had a lot of helpful therapy and some medication, and have finally found more inner strength than I ever thought I could possess. I leaned on him too much, and as much as it hurt to be cheated on and left for someone more able-bodied than me, it's forced me to become more resourceful and independent.

It's also given me one hell of a thick-ass wall around my battered heart.

"So…" Edward trails off and clears his throat. "Did I totally blow this, or do you think I could try again?"

"Oh. Um…" Flustered by his sweet smile, I glance around the room again, and sure enough, some people—scratch that— _women_ are watching us with blatant curiosity and disbelief on their sweaty faces. "I'm not sure it's such a good idea," I tell him, focusing on his face again. _Why does he have to be so freaking pretty?_ "Us going out, I mean. I'm just not…" Trailing off with a shrug, I adjust my ponytail and avoid his questioning eyes.

Edward waits a few beats for me to finish my sentence, but that's all I've got. Not… ready, not enough, not worthy. Not, not, not.

A breath whooshes out of him before he murmurs, "Okay, Bella." And my name coming out of his mouth in that soft tone would make my legs wobbly if that were at all possible. "I guess I'll see you around."

Readying myself to start my chest presses again, I nod and give him a small smile. "It was good to see you again."

"You too."

The hurt-puppy look on that gorgeous face might kill me. But I just can't. Dating and relationships… They aren't in the cards for me anymore. Trusting someone with my heart again feels about as likely as me getting to the top of Mount Everest without working legs.

Impossible.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! xo**


	4. Coffee

**Thank you all so much!**

 **Chapter 4 - Coffee**

Over the next month, I see Edward at the gym here and there, but he doesn't approach me again. It hurts a little, right in the soft, nougaty center of me, but I know it's for the best. I do an okay job at ignoring the hurt and instead, focus on my breathing and the way my muscles tighten and ache with each press.

At times, I feel like someone's watching me, but really, it could be anyone. Some people do openly stare at me, presumably trying to figure out why I'm in a wheelchair.

I lose the battle with my eyes every once in a while and look at him, but he always seems to have his head down, focused on the floor, his pretty lips in an almost-pout.

The one time I do catch his eyes on me, he averts them quickly, and it nearly knocks the breath out of me.

I leave before finishing my usual routine.

As usual, I go home to my empty house—a small rental I found once I sold the house I'd shared with my husband. There was no way I could stay in that place.

So many tainted memories.

Thelma and Louise bound up to me, and I pet them on their big heads. A pang hits me then—right in the center of my chest. But it's for them this time. Peter and I got them when they were just babies, and he's abandoned them too.

"Sorry, sweet girls," I whisper to them, even though it's been many months since the divorce was final. The day of my fall and the fact that I was unable to reach Peter had been the catalyst. Everything blew up when he finally got home, and he confessed to the affair.

Thelma places her head on the arm of my chair and whines softly while Louise licks my hand.

I feed them from the low rectangular tub I have their food in now, and then I set about finding something for myself to eat.

My phone rings as I'm heating up a chicken breast and veggies that I prepped at the beginning of the week, and I smile at Alice's face lighting up the screen.

Therapy helped me realize that I was depressed long before I found out about the cheating. Sometime after I lost the use of my legs, I lost myself too, my passion for life. I'd closed myself off from everyone, even somewhat from Peter. Some might say I drove him to cheat, but I know that's all on him. He should have fought for me—for us. And if he didn't want to do that, which is crystal clear now, then he should have let me go, not snuck around for almost a year with another woman.

He'd said he couldn't _do_ that to me… just leave me.

I'm sure the look I gave him would've been comical to an outsider. I'm surprised I didn't have steam coming out of my ears.

His logic was flawed, at best. At worst, he's just a fucking coward.

Once I'd been in treatment for a while, I started finding it easier to socialize with the people I work with every day.

Alice is one of them.

"Hey, bitch," I greet her after swiping my thumb across the screen.

"Hey!"

Alice exclaims almost everything.

I used to find it annoying, but now I find it endearing. Usually.

"Did you go to the gym today?" she asks.

I can feel the vibrations from her excitement from here.

"Yes."

"Annnnd?"

"And what? I told you, he doesn't even look at me."

"You know that's not true, Bella."

My microwave dings, and I take my plate, pour a glass of Chardonnay, and situate them on the tray in my lap. I roll over to a TV tray I have set up in the living room and carefully lift my food tray onto it.

"No, I don't. I mean, yeah, okay. He looked at me today. _Once_ ," I clarify, cutting her off before she can squeal in excitement.

The squeals are the worst part, but I do find her exuberance in general to be refreshing. I'd never realized quite how morose I usually was until I became friends with her. She's good at pulling me out of my funk.

"I'm telling you, Bella. You just need to go right up to him and tell him you've changed your mind about the date."

"But I haven't changed my mind," I retort, blowing on a bite of chicken.

"Bella. Come. On. This guy is hot and sweet, and he _saves_ people for a living. And he obviously wants to get to know you. What is the problem here?"

God, she's so pushy. I shouldn't have told her about him, but I was so caught off guard by what he did. By _him_.

A prickly sense of discomfort crawls over my shoulders. "The problem is me, okay? And… him. I won't be enough for him. You know that as well as I do."

"What I know is that is complete and utter bullshit, Bella Marie."

"Did you just middle-name me?"

"Don't try to change the subject. Ask him out."

"No."

"Do it."

I try to picture it: him running gracefully and effortlessly on a treadmill, and me rolling myself up to him. The stares and whispers. The sharp sting of rejection when he says it's too late, that he's dating some leggy blonde.

Pressing my palm to my chest, I shake my head, even though Alice can't see me. "I _can't_ , Alice."

I can tell from the momentary silence that her face has fallen, along with her spirits. "Just think about it, okay?" she says in a rare hushed tone.

"Sure. Now, tell me more about this hunk of a man you're screwing. What's his name again? Justin?"

"Jasper! H'omigod…"

And off she goes. I smile and eat my dinner, laughing at her story about how he's allergic to flowers but refused to show up to their date without them. He sneezed all through dinner, but he recovered by the time they made it to the bedroom.

Sipping my wine, I do my best to ignore the little snaps of jealousy that assault me.

.

.

The following week, I'm at the gym again. I didn't see Edward the last two times I came, even though my eyes had a mind of their own and searched every corner for him.

Blowing out a breath, I pull down on the bar of my machine, lifting the weights behind me. I've been able to increase the weight this week. I'm getting stronger, and I love the feeling. My muscles don't ache as much in the evenings now, and I have more energy than ever.

Someone sits down on the machine to my left—nothing out of the ordinary. But then a soft, "Bella," is uttered, and my heart kicks against my ribs. That is _so_ not normal. Never have I had that kind of reaction to the way my name rolls off a man's tongue before.

I turn my head to look at him—my first mistake.

He's got a couple days of stubble on his face, and his hair is as wild and gorgeous as ever. His white v-neck t-shirt clings to his defined muscles, and my mouth goes dry.

Letting my bar go, I lick my lips and clasp my hands together in my lap. "H—hey," I stutter out.

Edward focuses on my mouth for a beat and then blinks, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. "How are you?" he asks.

"I'm doing okay. You?"

He shrugs, but it's not as nonchalant as I think he was going for. "Work's been kinda rough this last week, but other than that, pretty good."

I wince. "I'm sure you see some pretty awful things in your line of work, huh?"

"Sometimes," he murmurs, adjusting his grip on the handles of his machine and doing a compression.

The bicep closest to me bulges with his effort, and I have to consciously restrain myself from reaching out to touch it.

"I'm sorry it's been a rough week." Gripping the bar again and doing a rep of my own, I hesitate. We're not friends, but maybe he needs someone to talk to? I know almost nothing about him, but I can tell by the look in his eyes that something is haunting him. "Do you want to… talk about it?"

His lashes lower, and his eyebrows pull together as his arms continue to work. A light sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead. "Uh…"

"It's okay if you don't want to," I rush out. "You just…" I shake my head, mostly at myself for trying to pry. "Never mind." My shoulders slump in my defeat, but I tell myself to stop being ridiculous. I rejected him when he asked me out, and he's pretty much avoided me since then, so he probably wouldn't want to be friends or anything.

But he did come sit next to me.

Did he just want the particular machine he's on, or is it because he wanted to talk to me again?

Quiet words bring me out of my thoughts, and I turn to watch his face. It's still downturned, and his jaw tightens like he's trying to hold back his emotions.

"The…" His voice breaks, and he clears his throat before continuing. "The kids get me the worst. Lost one this week."

My stomach drops, and my heart lodges in my throat. "I'm so sorry, Edward." Reaching out, I get my hand on his forearm, and his muscles twitch and jump at my touch. Goosebumps travel up my arm in a rush, and I stare at where our skin is connected.

When I look back to his face, he's staring at where I'm touching him just like I was. Thinking it might be unwelcome, I start to remove my hand, but he's quick to place his free hand on top of mine, stilling me.

He looks over at me from under thick lashes and offers me a sad smile. "Thanks, Bella." Panic flutters in my chest as he stands, dropping my hand and wiping down his machine. "I'll see ya."

Watching him walk away from me this time hurts more than a little, and I call out to him before I even realize what I'm doing.

He stops and turns, and I bite my lip, cursing myself internally for not letting him go.

But I just _can't_.

Funny how things can turn inside out and upside down in a heartbeat.

Speaking of heartbeats, mine is galloping.

Edward watches me expectantly, and I realize I'm just staring at him, so I say the first thing that comes to mind.

"Coffee?"

* * *

 **Thanks so much for reading! xo**


	5. Dinner

**Chapter 5 - Dinner**

Mojo's Café has mismatched, overstuffed couches and chairs everywhere and smells heavenly. Edward is unsure at first of where to sit, so I roll over to one of the chairs that's situated around a coffee table along with three other chairs. With minimal huffing and twisting, I get myself out of my wheelchair and into the softness of the armchair.

I'd noticed Edward take a step closer while I worked, probably wanting to help, but he let me do it myself. I smile and thank him when he moves my wheelchair out from in front of my legs and to the side.

"What would you like to drink?"

"Oh, here." I offer him a five-dollar bill, but he waves me off.

"My treat."

"If you insist," I reply with a smile. "I'll have a non-fat iced hazelnut latte please."

"Comin' up," he says with a wink, walking toward the counter.

I watch almost every female in the place follow his movements with their eyes, and the barista's face lights up like Vegas as he approaches her.

Looking down, I watch my hands fidget in my lap. He's not mine, and he never will be, but I still don't want to watch him flirt with her.

A few minutes later, a cup appears in my line of vision.

"You all right?" Edward asks.

"Yes. Thank you," I say, indicating the cup.

"You're welcome."

And cue awkward silence.

I have no clue what to say to him now that we're here together.

After another minute of silence from me, Edward sighs and leans forward in his seat, taking a sip of his hot coffee. He places the mug on the coffee table and then leans back, his gaze on the ceiling.

He's not making this easy for me, not that I blame him.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," I tell him. "I'm sorry."

"Why did you ask me to come?"

Uncomfortable with his blunt question putting me on the spot, I glance at him and shrug. "I don't know. I just thought you looked like you needed a friend, but you probably have a ton of those."

"Not really," he replies, surprising me. "I mean, not close ones. Emmett's probably the closest, but I wouldn't exactly spill my guts to him."

"But you'd spill your guts to me?"

He smirks. "I don't know yet."

"Oh." I look at my lap again and watch the ice swirl in my coffee. "Fair enough."

"I know I'd like to get to know you, though."

His straightforward declaration makes my head snap in his direction.

"Why?"

Edward laughs, clearly surprised at my question. "I didn't know I needed a reason, but if you want one—"

"It's just that…" I cut him off but then trail off on my own statement. Shaking my head, I blow out a breath. "This is hard for me."

"Why? We're just two people having coffee and talking. It doesn't have to be hard."

Frustrated that I'm making things more difficult than they need to be, I take a drink of my coffee and try to gather my thoughts. "I just don't understand it," is all I can come up with.

"Don't understand what?"

Shrugging, I finger the end of my ponytail. "What you see in me, I guess." He opens his mouth, but I'm quick to add, "And no mentioning of the nakedness." I add a finger-point in his direction, trying to look stern, and he chuckles.

Relaxing at his laugh, I crack a smile myself, and it feels good.

"I don't know if I can explain it, to be honest. I just feel this inexplicable need to touch you whenever I'm near you. I almost cupped your cheek that day at your house. How freakin' unprofessional, right?" He emits a self-deprecating snort, but I shake my head.

"I wanted you to touch me," I admit quietly.

Thank God there aren't any other customers seated very near us.

Edward licks his lips. "Yeah?"

With a shy smile, I nod at him.

"When I saw you at the gym that first time…" He rakes a hand through his chaotic hair. "I couldn't believe it was you… couldn't believe my luck. I knew about the divorce, but I thought it would be skeevy to ask Em for your number or whatever." His free hand comes down on his thigh, and he flexes long fingers against the fabric of his pants. "I mean, I wouldn't say I was pining away for you ever since we were called to your house, but you definitely crossed my mind at times," he says, looking over at me. "And I hoped to see you again someday, however improbable that seemed. I was so nervous to even approach you that day. Took me a while to muster up the courage," he finishes with a half-embarrassed smile.

My mouth hangs open at his honest words.

Who _is_ this guy?

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"You haven't said anything for about a minute and a half."

"Huh?"

Edward's lips curl up into a heart-stopping smile, and he breathes a laugh through his nose.

"I'm just…" I tilt my head at him. "I don't know what to say to that."

His face falls, and he nods in understanding, but he doesn't understand at all.

"I don't mean that in a bad way," I rush to explain. "I think I'm… unaccustomed to honesty. As sad as that is."

"That asshole," he replies angrily.

So he knows.

"Yeah," I agree in a whisper.

"How the fuck could he— I'm sorry," Edward says, shaking his head and inhaling so hard his nostrils flare. "It's none of my business."

"It's okay." Shrugging, I look down at my useless legs. "Maybe he just wanted someone normal… someone who could walk next to him… play footsie with him… wrap her legs around him." Bitterness permeates my tone, and my eyes sting. I've accepted my situation, but I don't have to like it.

"That's bullshit, Bella," he says, making my gaze snap back to him at his heated voice. "He promised to love you, for better or worse, in sickness and in health. He—"

"You think I don't think about that every single day?" I cut in. "You don't think I wanted my marriage to work? For my husband to keep loving me like he did in the beginning?" I swipe angrily at a tear that dares to track down my cheek. "I do, and I did, but you know what? It's better this way. This was the ultimate test, right? If he couldn't stick it out through this," I say, gesturing at my legs, "then it's better this way. Why would he want this when he could have _her_?" My body deflates as the anger leaves me and familiar resignation settles into its place. "It's better if I'm alone. That way, no one else can hurt me."

Edward's in front of me on his knees before I can even blink another tear away, gathering my hands into his own. His eyes are rimmed in crimson, and I glance around to see people staring at the way he's kneeling on the floor. I hear a woman gasp and say he must be proposing, and I let out a snort.

"Edward, please get up."

He shakes his head in defiance. "No. You need to hear this because you have it all wrong. He was an idiot to toss you aside like that. You are smart and funny and so fucking beautiful," he says with a squeeze of my hands as I gape at him. "If you were mine…" He pauses to swallow. "I'd never let you doubt for even half a second how I feel about you."

It takes some effort, but I blink rapidly. "I'm…" _...at a loss as to what the hell is going on here._ "You barely know me," I manage to get out.

"I know plenty," he shoots back. "I know you're compassionate and strong. You're determined and independent. You're scared to let anyone in, which I understand, but I hope you'll give me a chance, Bella. That's all I'm asking. Just one chance."

The intensity of his gaze on me steals my breath. I don't understand any of this. There are almost a dozen beautiful, able-bodied women just in this room with us. He's gorgeous and sweet, and he could have anyone he wants.

"I don't…" I trail off, shaking my head and averting my eyes. Looking at him is almost painful because how could I ever give him what he wants? How could he ever be satisfied with me?

I don't want my being in a wheelchair to define me, but for most people, it does. It doesn't make them bad people. It's just the first thing they see when they look at me. But I know deep down, I'm using my paralysis as an excuse to push him away. I'm damaged, yes, but not in the way people might assume. Peter damaged my heart, and it feels as if it's beyond repair.

In the beginning, he was just as sweet and loving as Edward seems to be.

"It's not fair to assume I'll be like _him_ before you even give me a chance," he says like he's read my mind, spitting the word 'him' as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

Dropping my gaze to our joined hands, I shake my head and whisper, "I know."

Edward rises from the floor, and I gasp when he kisses my cheek. I press my fingers to the warm, tingling skin there as he moves to sit back in his chair.

Clearing my throat, I look over at him and take in his open expression. A corner of his mouth tilts up, and I want to kiss it.

"You'll be honest with me, right?"

"Always," he answers without hesitation.

I smile softly at him. "If I'm not who you want… you'll tell me?"

He tilts his head, regarding me. "I don't think that'll happen, but yes. And the same goes for you. Never settle, Bella."

I nod, even though it seems ludicrous that I'd be settling for _him_. He already makes my heart race, and we haven't even kissed.

"One chance, huh?"

Edward smiles but rubs the back of his neck with one big hand. "Well, I'd like to think I'll only need one, but I'm bound to screw up at some point. No one's perfect, right?" He flashes me a _perfect_ smile. "But hopefully my one chance will earn me a second one if I should ever need it."

He finishes with a wink, and heat fills my chest and lower. Much lower.

I smile at him. "So…"

"So…" he echos, grinning back at me. "Dinner?"

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! xo**


	6. Time

**Thank you so much for your lovely reviews!**

* * *

 **Chapter 6 - Time**

"This is your car?" I ask with a snicker. "It's such a mom-mobile."

Edward rolls his eyes playfully at me. "Safest car on the planet." He taps the navy blue hood.

"I guess I pictured you as a pick-up truck guy."

"Oh, yeah? You think I'm ruggedly handsome or somethin'?"

"Sure, yeah. We'll go with that."

He purses his lips to hide a smile. "C'mon, beautiful. We have a reservation. You look stunning, by the way," he adds when I move closer to him.

It's been a couple of weeks since he asked me to dinner, but he works a lot of evenings, and my parents were in town last weekend. We exchanged numbers and have been texting and flirting at the gym in the meantime, but I've been buzzing with anticipation for this date.

Glancing down at the deep purple bandage dress I bought for tonight, I touch the ends of my curled hair. I think this is the first time he's seen it down. "Thank you."

Edward opens the passenger door for me, and I thank him again. His uncertain gaze rests on me, and he finally asks if he can help me into the car.

"It's okay. I've got it. But thank you for offering," I tell him with a smile.

He nods and watches as I transfer myself into the seat and then set about breaking down my chair and placing the wheels behind the driver's seat.

"Wow, you're fast at that."

I smile up at him. "Lots of a practice."

He lets out a self-deprecating laugh. "Right."

Once I'm finished and the chair is without its wheels and folded in half, I ask him to place it either in the trunk or behind my seat.

Edward jumps to the task, seeming relieved to be able to help in some way.

It's really cute, I have to admit.

I smile at him as he folds himself into the driver's seat and once again marvel at how handsome he is. The charcoal leather of the car's interior offsets the vibrant colors of his eyes and hair, and I have to turn my gaze away to stop myself from reaching out and touching him.

But maybe he wouldn't mind if I did, considering this _is_ a date. It's been so long since I've gone out on one that I'm feeling unsure about everything.

Once he's pulled out into traffic, he rests his hand palm-down on the console between us, and I take that as my cue to place mine on top of his, threading our fingers together a little. He grasps my fingers, both sets curling under, and smirks over at me.

Trying to ignore the rush of heat traveling up my arm and into my chest, I lift my eyebrows at him.

"You totally fell into my trap," he teases.

"Oh, yeah?"

Edward nods. "The hand trap."

"The hand trap?"

"Yeah, see I place my hand between us, and you're magically drawn to it, so now you're touching me." He grins like a little boy who's just been given everything he wants for Christmas.

"Does that work on all the girls?" I ask without thinking, cringing instantly. I'm trying to give this whole dating thing a chance, but I'm so bad at it. I don't want to know about him with other girls, and I don't want to make him feel like he's supposed to feel guilty for being with other girls.

 _Ugh._

"Don't answer that," I tell him before he can answer, noting the worrisome look in his eyes. "I'm happy to be touching you," I recover with a smile.

Edward's smirk is in full force. "I'm happy to be touched." His eyes widen. "I mean—not like… Uh... Fuck me," he mutters at the end, raking a hand through his hair.

If I could, I would be squeezing my thighs together at those last two little words. As it is, I feel a distinct ache somewhere down below.

I smirk at him when he finally chances a glance at me, and we laugh together, relieving the momentary tension.

When we get to the restaurant, Edward asks if he can push my wheelchair up the ramp for me, but I tell him walking beside me would make me feel better. Equal. He complies with an easy smile and rests his warm hand on the back of my neck, under my hair, as we move toward the entrance.

I can't stop smiling.

Dinner is wonderful. Even when I was single before everything happened, it was never really like this. There were a few random things like prom before Peter. Then I met Peter at a party on my dorm floor in college, and we started hanging out (and making out) until we decided to just be together. No true dates were involved.

It didn't bother me, but this… This is nice.

I do my best to not let my eyes wander around the room to see who might be staring. Instead, I focus on the delicious food and the rich wine and of course, Edward. I focus on his intelligence and compassion, his sarcasm and wit. I find myself laughing harder than I have in as long as I can remember. He tests the waters with some innuendo here and there, and I respond in kind, which I think is a relief for him. My vagina might have tumbleweeds rolling around in it, but I'm not dead. I want sex just as much as anyone else.

We talk about our jobs. I bore him with stories about being a systems analyst, and he fascinates me with stories about being a firefighter and EMT.

Over dessert, he's been telling me about some pranks they've pulled at the station.

"And this one time," he says between chuckles, "I put a mouse, like one of those gray cat-toy ones, under Emmett's bed. He's terrified of mice." He laughs harder, his green eyes shining with the memory. "So he walks toward his bed, and I have this mouse on a fishing wire, and I yank…" He trails off because he's laughing so hard, and it's so contagious I almost snort the sip of wine I just took out of my nose.

"Now, you know Em's a big guy." Edward shakes his head and wipes a rogue tear from under his eye. "He screamed like a little girl and jumped up onto his bed so fast that the frame broke, and the whole thing crashed to the floor." He lets out a long sigh. "Oh, God. I got in trouble with the chief, but it was fucking hilarious."

I'm forced to rest my fork and bite of cheesecake on my plate because I'm in hysterics right along with him. I remember Emmett being huge, and the mental images I'm getting are making it so hard to stop laughing. Not that I want to.

As our laughter dies down, we stare at one another, eyes shining and cheeks hurting.

Dropping my gaze to my plate, I lift the waiting bite of cheesecake to my mouth, my lips still curled up at the ends. Heat floods my cheeks when I look back up to see him watching me.

"Do I have something on my face?"

Edward shakes his head, chuckling softly. "No. I just like looking at you, and since I'm allowed to now, I'm going to. A lot," he finishes with a cheesy grin that makes me snort out another laugh.

.

.

We hold hands again on the way home, bantering about other drivers and their stupidity. I still get a little nervous when riding in a car, especially if I'm not in control of it, and it helps that he's distracting me from my usual worries by keeping the laughter from dinner going.

At one point, a woman in a mini-van whips around us, flipping Edward off, and when he says, "Jesus, keep your pants on, Mama Andretti," I absolutely lose it.

"I don't think I'll need to hit the gym tomorrow," I say between chuckles. "This date definitely counts as an ab work-out."

"See?" he says. "I'm multi-functional."

I'm still giggling as he helps me retrieve the pieces of my chair from the car.

When we get up to my front door, I turn toward him. "This was really fun, Edward. Thank you," I tell him sincerely. I can't even remember the last time I had so much fun.

I'm confused when his face falls, and he rubs the back of his neck. "Uh, you're welcome." He takes a step back.

"Come inside?" I ask him, and he reclaims that step, the beautiful smile returning to his face.

"Yeah?"

Smirking, I nod and unlock the door.

Thelma and Louise sprint toward us and sniff all over his pants.

"Whoa," he says, his hips jolting forward when one wet nose is shoved up his ass.

"Girls! Stop it. Leave Edward alone."

"What can I say? I'm a chick magnet." He laughs as Thelma's nose travels up his outer thigh.

"Ticklish?" I ask with a giggle.

"No," he says too quickly to be convincing.

"Uh-huh," I reply with a knowing smirk. "C'mon, girls. Outside."

They run-skid after me, and then Edward and I are alone. In my house. No one else around.

Oh. God.

Suddenly feeling shy, I roll into the kitchen, calling back to ask if he'd like a drink.

"Actually… I should probably get going."

I stop and turn back toward him. "Oh. Um, okay." I do my best to plaster a fake smile on my face.

"I just have an early shift," he says, palming the back of his neck. "I really didn't expect you to invite me in. But I'm glad you did," he rushes to add when my false smile slips. "Shit, I'm fucking this all up." He grabs at his hair and then suddenly walks with purpose toward me. "Can I kiss you?"

Sex-doll face is back, but I recover quickly, closing my mouth and nodding as heat floods my belly.

Edward's so tall that when he kneels beside my chair, we're just about eye-level. His palm slides under my hair, cupping my neck as he leans in, and I breathe in his masculine scent—spicy, woodsy, _him_.

Our warm breaths mingle in the air just before he brushes his lips over mine, and a tingle races down my spine. An embarrassing whimper escapes my throat when his tongue slides out to flick my top lip. But then he groans… actually _groans_ , like it's painful for him to not devour me on the spot.

Looping my arms around his neck, I open to him so his tongue can delve inside, and it's like a match to gasoline. I'm not sure which one of us pulls, maybe both, but before I know it, I'm in his lap. He sits back on his heels and helps move me to straddle him after another pathetic whimper leaves my mouth.

"Too much?" he asks breathlessly.

Shaking my head, I fuse my mouth to his again.

Edward's hips shift against mine, and I moan against his lips.

"You can feel that?"

"Yes," I whisper, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth. "Yes," I moan when he thrusts up against me again.

Big hands move to clamp down on my hips, and Edward begins to move me over him, providing the friction we both want.

"Would you lose all respect for me if I asked you to spend the night?" I ask without opening my eyes nor ever slowing down on the kissing.

Edward shakes his head, bumping his nose into mine. "Fuck no." He dips his head and scrapes his teeth over my neck, eliciting a groan from me. "But…" He pulls his head back and stills, looking at me until I open my eyes. "We should probably slow down."

Dropping my gaze to his chest, I nod, even though I don't want to slow down. I haven't had a man between my legs in a very long time, and I want to do so many dirty things with this one.

The rejection stings, but I try to shove it away.

"Early shift. Right, sorry."

"Hey," he murmurs, tilting my chin up with the side of his index finger. "You can feel what you're doing to me," he says with another sexy flex of his hips.

Exhaling a heavy breath at the burst of sensation, I nod again.

"So please don't take this as rejection, okay? It's not."

"Okay."

"I do have an early shift, but I also want us to get to know each other better before we take that step." He lays a soft kiss on my lips and moves his arms to squeeze me around my middle. "There are some things about me you might not like, and I don't want you to have any regrets."

He's being smart, but right at this moment as I'm all pressed up against his solid body, I'm really wishing he weren't.

Edward leans in close to my ear before speaking again. "Doesn't mean I don't want to do all sorts of dirty things to you right now, though," he whispers. "Licking that sweet pussy would be at the top of the list."

His lewd, bold words turn me on even more, and my head falls back as I gulp and pant and clench and slide a hand up into his hair with a muttered, " _Fuck_." Peter never talked dirty to me again after my accident, and my body's reaction says it all.

Edward's evil chuckle vibrates through my chest. "Happy you decided to give me a chance?"

Licking my dry lips, I pull back to look him in the eyes, and he winks at me. "I'll let you know in about five minutes," I reply with what I hope is a sexy smirk.

" _Five_? Ha! Yeah, right. I plan to take my time with you, beautiful." His smile is confident, and that ache between my legs intensifies.

I offer him a nonchalant shrug and keep my eyes locked on his. "I've got time."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! xo**


	7. Confessions

**Chapter 7 - Confessions**

The next morning, I'm nothing short of giddy. No one, and I mean _no one_ has ever spent so much time bringing me pleasure like Edward did last night. I hope he was able to get up on time this morning. Oops.

I can't help but wonder if I let things go too far, though. Admittedly, my hormone-and-wine-addled brain had let my mouth ask him to spend the night, but in the end, he hadn't. And we didn't have sex. Still… too soon for oral delights?

I'm not sure.

All I know is that our date was amazing from start to finish. I did my best to put aside my fears and apprehension and give him the chance he deserves, and by the time we got back to my house, I felt like I'd known him my entire life.

And I enjoyed the _hell_ out of those orgasms.

Not one to leave a guy hanging, I ended up reciprocating and maybe blowing his mind a little bit right along with his dick.

Edward is gorgeous, and his cock is worship-worthy, so I imagine he's had his fair share of blow jobs. I have to admit to a moment of immense pride as he lay there, spent, panting, and speechless from what I'd done to him.

My phone dings, indicating a text as I'm getting my coffee ready.

 **Last night was amazing. You're amazing. I can't stop thinking about you. Is that weird? I can't even wipe this goofy smile off my face. I already miss you. I'm such a cornball, but God. Can I take you out again? Tonight? ~E**

He sends a selfie next, displaying his toothy grin.

Giggling, I read over the text again and then touch his handsome face on my screen. God, before last night, I'm not even sure when the last time was that I really and truly laughed, and now, all I want to do is laugh at how things have turned out.

I can't even imagine having missed out on all of this had I told Edward no when he asked for a chance with me.

He doesn't make me feel like there's an imbalance between us. He doesn't make me feel less-than because I've lost the use of my legs. He doesn't go out of his way to baby me. He treats me like I'm just me. And I love every minute of it.

 _ **I can't stop thinking about you either. If that's weird, then we're both weird. ;) And yes to tonight. ~B**_

 ***insert fist-pump gif* ~E**

 _ **Lmao, let me know what time, and I'll be ready. ~B**_

 **Laughing at me? I'm wounded. And the answer is 8:00. :D ~E**

 _ **Aww, so sensitive.**_ _**And I can't wait. ~B**_

 **Me neither. ~E**

Jeez, it's kind of painful to be this happy all the time—sore abs and cheeks.

Worth it.

.

.

Edward and I have been dating for a couple of weeks now, and it's been incredible. We coordinate our gym visits when we can and go on dates when Edward isn't working. He was busy all last weekend, but we were able to go out twice during the week, and we talk and text often.

I've been trying to not sit around and wait for the other shoe to drop and just enjoy myself. Unfortunately, those thoughts still creep in here and there, but I do my best to squash them.

We haven't slept together yet, but things have been escalating and barreling in that direction. It's hard for us to keep our hands (and mouths) off each other most of the time.

We're at dinner on Saturday night at a great Italian place, where we've been making small talk for a bit after ordering our entrées. And then Edward finally brings up what I've been waiting for.

"Okay, I have a couple of things to tell you," he says as bread is brought to the table. "These last couple of weeks with you have been amazing, and I don't want any secrets between us."

He swallows nervously, taking a second to sip some water, and icy fear floods my chest and tingles down my arms.

"That bad?"

He shrugs. "Depends, I guess."

"On?"

"Well… okay. Here goes." Edward clears his throat and takes another sip of his water. "I have a son."

My eyes bulge out of my head, and he watches me carefully. "Wow," I breathe. "Um." I take a sip of my own water to give myself a moment to process. "I just… had no idea. I assumed since you aren't married…" My shoulders stiffen. "Oh, my God. You're not _married_ , are you?"

Now, his eyes are the ones bulging. "No, no, no," he rushes to reassure me. "Absolutely not married. Never have been, actually."

"Oh." I nod, intensely relieved. That would've been one hell of a shoe. "Okay."

"I probably should've told you before we even… well, probably before I even kissed you that first time, not to mention all that's happened between us since then," he says as pink creeps into his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

Mulling that over as he watches me, I decide I'm not angry with him, just surprised. "No, it's okay. Um… First dates aren't usually for full disclosure, right?" I force out a laugh. "It's just unexpected, I guess."

Edward nods. "He lives with his mom, Emily, in Tacoma, and I usually have him on the weekends. He's on a camping trip with his scout troop this weekend, though."

Edward and Emily. How adorable.

 _Wow, jealous much?_

Shaking my head at myself, I ask, "How old is he?"

Edward clears his throat again. "Ten."

"Oh, wow."

"Yeah, prom night baby," he says sheepishly. "Deal-breaker?"

My answer is immediate. "Absolutely not. I love kids," I say with a smile to reassure him, though a small pang hits my heart.

The corners of his mouth lift up in return, and he blows out a breath. "Good."

"What's his name?"

"Alex. Wanna see a picture?" he asks, excitement and pride coloring his tone.

"Of course."

Edward finds one on his phone and then hands it to me. A crooked grin beams at me from the screen, and he's got Edward's startling green eyes, but his hair is so dark it's almost black—a beautiful combination.

"He's very handsome," I tell him as I hand his phone back over.

"Was there ever any doubt?" he fires back with a lift of his eyebrows.

"Cocky ass," I laugh.

He winks at me just as the waiter comes over and deposits our plates in front of us.

"Thank you," Edward and I say in unison.

I love a guy who's kind to waiters. It says so much about them. But I already know Edward has a heart of gold. Hopefully, whatever else he needs to tell me that he seems so nervous about won't change that opinion.

Once we're sitting back and patting our stomachs, I decide to ask him and get it over with.

His hand gravitates to the back of his neck, something I've realized he does when he's worried or nervous, and it makes my chest flutter with something close to panic.

Is this where the other shoe drops?

"So… I grew up in a small town a few hours south of here, and I'm sure you know there's not much to do in small towns. So my friends and I partied. A lot." He breathes in and glances out the window next to us. "Uh…"

He's having trouble looking at me, and I have no idea where this is going. I try not to stare too intently at him so he can get out what he needs to say.

"Emmett…" He clears his throat. "Emmett told me that your accident was caused by a drunk driver, and well… I promised I'd be honest with you about everything." His shoulders lift and lower with a deep breath. "I uh, got a DUI when I was eighteen." His brows furrow, and his mouth tilts down into a frown. "I hit someone, but thankfully, no one was seriously injured."

Staring at the condensation on my water glass as it slides down the side, I nod absently. It's a sensitive subject for me, which is obviously why he was so nervous to tell me. It was monumentally stupid, but he was just a kid.

"It's what made me want to become an EMT," he adds softly.

Raising my eyes to meet his pleading ones, I offer a small smile. "Then something good came out of it, right?" I ask, hoping to ease his guilt a bit.

Edward visibly relaxes, his shoulders dropping and the grip he has on his napkin loosening. "Yeah," he breathes out. "Maybe it's ludicrous to apologize to you because I obviously had nothing to do with your accident, but… I feel the need to anyway. So yeah. I'm so sorry, Bella." Before I can respond, he continues. "I hate that the thing I did back then was the same thing that hurt you and altered your life permanently. Maybe that doesn't make sense," he mumbles, pulling at his hair. "I just… I think about that night a lot, and I hate myself for it. What if I'd…" He trails off with a haunted look in his eyes, and he doesn't need to complete the sentence for me to understand what he's left off.

The guilt he's harboring is understandable, but it's misplaced here. And while what he did was shitty, I don't want him to look at me with pity or feel guilty about my injury.

"The important thing is that you didn't, Edward. Yes, it was stupid and reckless, but the fact is, you didn't hurt or kill anyone. You're lucky nothing like that happened. And at least you learned from it. Some people keep right on doing it. But you bettered yourself."

A half-smile tips one side of his mouth up. "Thank you," he murmurs, looking into my eyes. Stunned by the emotion in his eyes, I hold his gaze for an interminable length of time. And in our silent exchange, a strong connection is forged. I can feel it as though it were tangible—as if it were an actual thread, linking our hearts together across this small round table.

At the same time, we reach across the expanse and grasp the other's hand, and my skin crackles with the energy his touch always brings. It's something I'd never felt before I met him, and it's something I want to hold on to with everything that I am.

"So," Edward says suddenly, giving my fingers a squeeze, "when do you think you'll be up to meeting Alex?"

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 **Thank you for reading! xo**


	8. Warts and All

**I thought about making the title Warts and All, but I wasn't sure anyone would read that, LOL.**

 **Sorry about the false chapter 8 update email. I had two tabs open, and it looked like I hadn't posted chapter 7. And my three-year-old is obviously melting my brain because I'd already forgotten that I had posted it. Oy. **

**Anyway, this is the last chapter. I hope you enjoy!**

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 **Chapter 8 - Warts and All**

About a week later, we're at my house, and I want this to be the night. I want Edward to stay, and I'm hoping his suggestion to cook for me here means that he wants the same thing.

Nerves flutter in my chest as we sit down to eat the meal he cooked in my kitchen. It was hard not to stare at him the whole time as his muscled body moved around my space, chopping, stirring, seasoning. He's the main chef at the station, and I can see why as he sets a plate down in front of me with a nicely grilled steak, creamy-smooth mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables.

"This looks delicious. Thank you."

We don't talk much as we eat. Most of the communication is happening with our eyes. We watch each other eat, and when he groans as I lick potatoes off my fork, I know for sure tonight's the night.

The dinner plates have been cleared, and I'm straddling Edward on my boring tan couch. Before he came along, I hadn't made out with anyone like this since college—fully-clothed bodies pressed tightly together, panting breaths, nipping teeth, roving hands. It's phenomenal—partly because it's with this particular man.

I know I'm falling for him hard and fast.

But maybe he's falling for me, too.

It was hard to believe for a while that this gorgeous man wanted me, but there's no doubt left in my mind now. There's always that chance that he could hurt me somewhere down the line, like Peter did. But being with Edward is far too good to pass up because I'm scared.

You can't be brave without first being scared, right?

I'm choosing to be brave.

And after everything he's told me, I know Edward is all in. To say I was in shock that he already wants me to meet his son would be putting it mildly. It's a huge deal, and the fact that he trusts me enough and feels that connection with me as strongly as I do with him is just incredible.

I'm nipping at his earlobe when his big hands clamp down on my thighs. A surprised squeak leaves my mouth, and I tighten my arms around his neck as he rises from the couch, holding me firmly in place.

My shoes drop to the floor, and in three long strides, he's got me pinned against the wall of my living room. His lips skim down my neck, and I can't stop panting at the myriad of sensations running rampant in my body.

"Bella," he whispers, sounding almost pained. "I want you so bad it hurts."

He punctuates his statement with a firm flex of his hips against me, and I whimper, pulling at the silky strands of his hair.

"Then have me," I tell him.

Edward pulls back to look into my eyes. His are a blazing green, and they're almost too pretty to even stand to look at. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," I reply, holding his gaze.

An infectious grin spreads across his face, and we are a couple of goofy-smiling idiots. Not that I mind in the slightest.

"Right here okay?" he asks with a raised eyebrow and salacious smirk.

A hot pulse of desire hits me down below. I never thought I'd be having sex in this position ever again. Not after the accident.

"You'll have to do most of the work," I warn Edward.

His eyebrows rise up his forehead. "Have you seen these guns?" he asks, flexing one arm at a time obnoxiously while still holding me up with the other.

Jeez, he's strong.

"I'm surprised you didn't kiss them," I say with a laugh, not letting him see quite how much his obvious strength is turning me on.

"I'd rather kiss you."

"Oh, good answer."

His lips crush to mine, and I tighten my arms around his warm, solid neck, not quite believing all of this is happening.

"Are you on the pill?" he asks breathlessly against my lips.

Shaking my head, I answer, "No, I… um. I can't have kids." I drop my gaze to his chest. "I'm sorry. I probably should've said something sooner. I had internal bleeding and had to have a partial hysterectomy after the accident."

A single tear streaks down my cheek, and he reaches up to wipe it away.

"Hey, it's okay," he says, lifting my chin so I'll meet his eyes.

I can tell he's sincere. It's really okay with him. He has a son, so maybe that's enough for him. I don't know exactly what will happen between us, but I'd hate to think he'd be giving up a dream of having more children if we end up being forever.

"Really?"

A small smile lifts the corners of his mouth. "Yes, really. And not because I don't see us being together for as long as you'll put up with me," he says with a chuckle. "But because I want you just the way you are."

Tightening my arms around his neck, I rest my head on his shoulder and melt against him. I can't even adequately express what that means to me. "Thank you," I whisper.

"No need to thank me, Bella. You're amazing, and I…"

I pull back to look at him when he trails off, tilting my head. "You what?"

There's trepidation in his eyes. "I know this is fast, and I don't want to scare you off. But Bella…" He lets out a soft laugh through his nose, shaking his head. "I'm crazy about you." He shrugs. "I just thought you should know that."

Pulling him toward me by his neck, I kiss him with all the passion he's released in me these past few weeks. "You too," I breathe into his mouth.

"Yeah?"

I nod. "Yeah."

Edward turns and sets me down on the couch, and disappointment deflates my shoulders and chest.

"Did I say something wrong?" I ask him.

He kneels in front of me. "Fuck no. I just need to do one thing."

Before I can ask what, his hands dip under the hem of my dress, and he removes my panties with one swift tug.

"I need to taste you again first."

"Oh, God." My head falls back on the couch as he bunches the skirt of my dress around my waist and pushes my legs up and apart.

Edward dips his head down and is on me in an instant. He licks and sucks and hums in all the right places, and I run my hands through his hair, watching him until I can't keep my eyes open any longer from the intense zaps of pleasure.

"You're really good at that," I breathe out once he's reduced me to a puddle of satisfaction.

He chuckles and removes his clothes before lifting my dress over my head. With a wicked grin, he tweaks one of my nipples, sending a jolt to my sensitive clit. "I'm nowhere near done with you," he says before turning to lay my dress neatly over the back of the armchair.

"Wait," I say as he moves toward me again.

Confusion creases his brow. "What's wrong?"

I smirk at him. "Nothing. I just want to look at you."

His smirk mirrors mine, and I giggle as he does some ridiculous body-builder pose for me.

But holy hell… His body is just… I can't even...

Yeah.

Coherent thought is eluding me.

Back against the wall, he holds me up by my spread thighs, and I lean forward to lay open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone and up his neck. When a soft moan leaves his mouth, I tell him, "Now. Please. I need you."

Edward wastes no time impaling me on his cock, and I cry out at the sensation—a twinge of pain that only intensifies the pleasure of having him inside me.

"You okay?" he whispers.

Licking my lips, I nod. "Yeah. You feel so good."

"God, Bella. You too," he says, dipping his head to kiss me. His lips and tongue continue to dance with mine as he pulls his hips back and pushes inside again… and again, swiveling his hips.

I break away from his mouth with a loud moan, and he pushes his face into my neck, kissing and nipping as he moves inside me.

His hands have to stay firmly on the underside of my thighs to hold me up, but mine are free to roam over every taut, corded muscle on his upper body. I glide my hands over his beautifully flexed biceps, his hard pecs, and up over his broad shoulders, and then I begin the circuit again. I don't ever want to stop touching him.

As his pace increases, I gasp and loop my arms around his neck to hold on tight while every jut of his lean hips up into me sends lightning bolts buzzing through my body, along every undamaged nerve-ending.

He makes me feel... _alive_. Unbroken. Whole.

"Edward," I pant. " _Yes_." Resting my head on my right bicep, I let my open lips rest against his neck, just under his ear.

"You like how I fuck you?" he asks in a strained voice, blunt as ever.

"God, yes."

"You're so fucking sexy, Bella... the way you take my cock… _Fuck_." His heavy breaths blow into my hair, our bodies pressed together and becoming slick with sweat.

"I wish I could wrap my legs around you," I blurt, thinking out loud.

Edward slows his thrusts and pulls back to look into my eyes. The slow slide of him in and out of my slick heat has my mouth dropping open and brows pulling together. He knows what the fuck he's doing, what angles to hit to maximize my pleasure and his.

"Good?"

"Uh-huh," I whimper.

"Then don't worry about anything else. You're perfect."

My eyes falls shut, and his mouth falls to mine, coaxing my lips open and stroking me with his tongue.

He's the perfect one.

Sweet, aching tension builds and builds down deep as he continues a steady rhythm, and when he bites down on my earlobe, I explode around him, shaking and crying out obscenities.

Edward groans my name as he comes deep inside me, his hips jerking erratically, and I stroke the sweaty hairs at his nape while he pants against my neck.

After a moment of recovery for both of us, he walks on somewhat wobbly legs over to the couch and lays me down.

"I'll be right back," he says before heading to my bathroom.

He comes back a moment later with a warm washcloth and cleans me up.

"Thank you."

He grins, eyes shining. "Thank _you_. Jesus, that was phenomenal."

"Yeah?" I ask, unsure. It was mind-blowing for me, but I'm sure he's had his fair share of women. Maybe more than his fair share, considering how he looks.

"Yes," he replies, leaning down to plant a kiss on my lips. When he pulls back, his eyes rake down my naked body, and he growls. "Fuck. Yes."

Before I can blink, he's on top of me, nudging my legs apart with his knee. He holds most of his weight off of me with his arms and stares down at me.

"Again?" I ask him with wide eyes, feeling him twitching and growing hard against my hip.

"Are you sore?"

"A little," I admit.

"Too sore?" he asks with a boyish grin.

Smiling back at him, I find myself wanting to give him anything and everything he wants.

And right now, he happens to want me. And not just my body, although that's all that seems to be on his mind at the moment.

He wants all of me. Just as I am.

As much as that continues to surprise and amaze me, I know it's true. I see it in the way he looks at me. I feel it in the way he touches me. It's there in every thoughtful gesture, like a few days ago, when he filled my car up with gas without my even asking him.

He knows how I feel about being babied. After the complacency I fell into with Peter, I can't let that happen again. But Edward told me he's going to want to help me and make some things easier for me at times, so I'd just have to suck it up and deal. That whole conversation went south rather quickly after he said 'suck,' but I digress.

At my answer to his question of whether or not I'm too sore, consisting only of a smile and a head-shake, Edward lowers himself to kiss and suck at my lips and then lower down, lavishing my nipples with attention.

And there's no room left for doubts in my mind. We both have baggage, but our connection is rock-solid.

I want all of him too, just as he is.

I can deal with anything as long as he's by my side.

"God, I love you," he suddenly murmurs against the skin of my belly button.

Gasping, I move my hands to his cheeks and tilt his head to look at me. "What did you say?"

A soft smile spreads his luscious lips. "I said I love you, Bella. I do. I can't keep it in anymore."

Stroking my thumbs over his cheekbones, I watch his eyes fall shut, his face the picture of serenity. "I love you too, Edward."

"Warts and all?" he asks.

I snort. "Right. Like you have warts."

"Hey now," he says, opening his eyes. "I'll have you know I did have one on my right pinky that I had frozen off, so ha. But I meant the metaphorical ones, mostly." He shrugs. "Everyone's got those, right?"

Nodding, I run one hand through the messy copper hair on top of his head and get lost for a moment in his warm green eyes.

As I continue to stare at him without speaking, Edward pulls a face, crossing his eyes and tilting his head.

I crack up laughing, which I'm learning is something he loves to make me do, and I am forever grateful for it.

"Yes, you dork," I tell him. "I love you. Warts and all."

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 **A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and for donating to this wonderful cause!**


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